Season of Sisters (45 page)

Her mind a fuddle, Kate had stammered an acceptance and hung up without clarifying the reason for the invitation. Could he possibly intend to offer her a job? Kate couldn't imagine that. While she considered herself a competent—okay, a damned fine—certified public accountant, she'd handled nothing of such professional significance as to put her on his law firm's radar screen.

But what else could he want? If he hoped to fish for personal information about one of her clients, he was out of luck. Kate had learned long ago the value of discretion. She never betrayed a client's privacy.

"Ryan is right, you know." Adele marched into the family room from the kitchen. "You need to get out and enjoy yourself more. This is the first date you've had in at least six months."

A year. Over a year. And that date had been with a local golf pro, not with a chiseled-jaw, Armani-clad attorney. "This isn't a date. It's a business dinner."

"You need to have more fun," Adele continued, eyeing her strappy stiletto heels with approval. "I thought I'd see some action in your social life after you finished up your degree and passed your CPA exam. But you're set on pursuing a partnership at Markhum and Frye instead of a sex life."

"Don't start."

Adele flicked one of her dangling earrings, a pink rhinestone star. "Somebody has to start because you certainly aren't."

"I'm going out tonight, aren't I?" Kate tucked an errant strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "On a Monday night, no less. In a little black dress and sans panty hose."

"What color underwear?"

"Adele!"

"Probably white. Really living on the wild side there, aren't you, honey."

Knowing she wore her best black lingerie, Kate lifted her chin, and declared, "Maybe. Maybe I will. Maybe I'll just turn on the charm and seduce Nicholas Sutherland. I could do it. I have it on good authority that I'm hot. You can ask anyone on the Milam High School baseball team."

Adele chuckled. "Oh, go fix your lipstick. You're as likely to vamp for that man as the Rangers are to win the American League pennant again this year."

"Don't count the Rangers out already. The season just started." Maybe if the Rangers got lucky this year, she would, too. Stranger things had happened.

Kate scooped up her shoes and headed upstairs to her bedroom, exchanging see-you-laters with her son as he breezed past her, heading for the garage and his pride and joy. The rebuilt '56 Ford pickup made her shake her head in wonder every time she caught sight of it. She didn't understand the love affair between her son and his beat-up old truck. Well, except for the pride factor. That she understood all too well.

Ryan had turned down the offer of a new Mustang from his father on his sixteenth birthday, choosing instead to use his paper route money for a set of wheels—to use the term generously. Since Ryan would rather eat dirt than accept anything from Max Cooper, Kate hadn't been shocked. The surprise came six months later when, following her promotion, she offered to help Ryan upgrade his mode of transportation. He'd chosen to stay in the junker, despite its consistent breakdowns. For a teenager, Ryan was unusually considerate of a parent's purse, plus he had a good measure of her own stiff-necked pride.

"He's not taking that truck off to college when he goes," Kate murmured as she found an unopened package of stockings from her lingerie chest. Of course, she needn't worry. That truck couldn't make it north of the Red River, much less all the way to New Haven, Connecticut.

So why was she even thinking about it? Maybe because Ryan's collegiate future was her favorite fantasy of late—a sad comment on her sex life, true, but nobody needed to know about that. More likely, she was concentrating on old trucks to avoid thinking about sexy lawyers.

This
had
to be a business meeting. What would she do if Nicholas Sutherland offered her a job? She tore the plastic from the package, then removed the stockings. Stripping off the ruined hose, she sat on the side of her bed to begin the slow process of smoothing the stockings up her legs and over her hips. She wriggled, hopped, jumped, and tugged—and ripped another runner.

Forget about it. She stripped off the hose.

Breathing like she'd run a marathon, Kate slipped into her naked feet into come-hither shoes, flipped off the bedroom light, and started back downstairs. The doorbell rang.
Business dinner. It's just a business dinner.

She peeked out the window and her stomach did a flip. Nicholas Sutherland could have come straight from a photo shoot for
GQ
magazine. Though tall and broad-shouldered, he had that fine-boned elegance that shouted breeding and class. He wore an Armani suit, Bruno Magli shoes, and a slim Piaget watch, and when Kate opened the door, his deep blue eyes took her breath away.

Business dinner. Business dinner. Business dinner.

With Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious.

"Hello, Nicholas."

"Good evening, Kate. You look lovely. I'm so pleased you were able to join me this evening."

Hmm... a compliment. That leaned more toward the "date" side of the equation, didn't it?

She invited him in and introduced him to a very curious Adele, who covertly shot her two thumbs up on their way out the door.

Kate noticed the neighborhood kids congregated at her curb before she noted the object of their fascination. "A limo?" she asked.

Nicholas shrugged. "I hate traffic this time of night."

He'd made reservations at a cozy French bistro in the Fort Worth Cultural District, a good forty-minute drive from Kate's house. She settled into the comfortable leather seat, surreptitiously tugged her hem hoping to cover more of her thighs, and accepted a glass of wine. He put her at ease with small talk about local sports teams and their mutual interest in long-distance running. By the time they reached Fort Worth, she'd forgotten all about business.

Danged if he didn't go and bring it up.

"I know you're probably curious about why I invited you to dinner," he said.

Because you've fantasized about me since our last meeting at the United Way party?
Oh, get hold of yourself, Kate Harmon. You're acting like a teenager.

"I have a double purpose. I've wanted to see you again since the United Way event, but business demands have kept me from having much of a personal life."

Oh, my. Kate swallowed hard.

"Also, I do have business to discuss with you."

"Business?" she repeated, an embarrassing squeak in her voice.

Nicholas topped off her wine. "I'm on a quest, and I believe you are just the person to assist me. We'll talk about it more at dinner, all right? It appears we are almost to the restaurant. I cannot recall a time when the drive to Fort Worth passed so quickly."

She could have kept going all the way to Amarillo, Kate decided as she glanced out the window to see the graceful facade of the Kimball Art Museum. Then, just as the limo pulled into the restaurant parking lot, the cell phone in Kate's purse softly chimed. Oh, no.

"Excuse me, Nicholas," she said, reaching for her bag. "I know it's rude to take a phone call under the circumstances, but I'm the mother of a teenage son with a driver's license. I dare not..."

"By all means."

The phone number displayed on the cell phone's screen was her home number.
Adele, this better be good.
"Hello?"

"Kate, honey," Adele said, tension in her tone. "Your brother-in-law called. There's been a car accident. In Cedar Dell."

"An accident?" Kate sat up straight, her eyes rounded in fear. Her sister? Her dad? Oh, God. "What happened?"

"Honey, you need to go home. Fast."

Chapter 2

Bright red letters against a white background formed the word emergency and Kate exhaled a relieved breath. Bethania Hospital. She'd made it. Finally.

As the limo pulled into the emergency room's circular drive, she sent another thank-you mentally winging toward Nicholas Sutherland. He'd saved her two hours of travel time by insisting she continue on to Cedar Dell in the limo.

"It's better this way," he'd told her. "You're upset and I'd worry about you driving. It's no problem for me to call another car to take me back to Dallas. Unless you'd like company on the trip. I'd be happy to ride along with you."

"Oh, no. Thank you. You've helped so much already. I can't thank you enough. I hate that our evening ended this way. I wish..."

"Me too," he'd said gently. "Good luck, Kate. Please let me know how everything turns out."

"He's a good man," she murmured as the automobile rolled to a stop and she reached for the door release. She exited the limo and stared at the hospital's double-wide automatic doors. Panic clogged her throat. She was almost afraid to go inside. She'd never come here worrying that somebody she loved might die... was dying... was dead. Never mind that when she'd called the number he'd left for her, her brother-in-law Alan had insisted her father's injuries, though serious, weren't life-threatening. She'd definitely heard relief in his voice when he told her Sarah's premature contractions had stopped, and that the overnight stay in the hospital was a precautionary measure on her obstetrician's part.

The two-hour trip from the west side of Fort Worth to the hospital in Cedar Dell was the longest car ride of Kate’s life. In spite of everything, she truly loved her family.

She hit the hospital's front doors running and recognized the volunteer receptionist at the emergency room desk as her eighth-grade Sunday school teacher. "Mrs. Hander? My family?"

"And you are?"

"Kate Harmon."

The woman's gaze raked her up and down. "Yes, I see. Of course. I should have realized. Did you just arrive in a limousine? And that dress—" She cleared her throat and spoke in a businesslike tone. "Your father is still in ICU, but the doctor upgraded his condition two hours ago. Sarah's up in Room 238. She and the baby are doing just great."

"Baby? She had the baby?"

"No. Her contractions have stopped. Your brother said for you to come straight up when you arrived."

"Tom?" Her brother was here? From Houston?

"He got in about an hour ago."

She didn't understand. How could Tom possibly have arrived ahead of her?

None of that mattered now. Her heels tapped against tile as she headed for the ICU first. Memory guided her down surreal hallways and through nightmare corridors until she faced a double swinging door with a metal sign on the front that blazed in red: intensive care unit, authorized personnel only, visitor approval required.

Kate pushed right on through without a pause.
Her gaze searched the names written on the small white eraser boards hung by hooks attached to turquoise curtains. The ICU at Bethania Hospital was different from intensive care units in Dallas and those portrayed on TV. These weren't private rooms where beds faced windows through which family could observe the patient in all his intubated glory. Here, cubicles cramped with machines and separated by curtains surrounded a nurses' station. Monitors beeped, machines whirred, wheels rattled against the tile floor as an orderly rolled an empty bed from one spot to another. A pair of male nurses spoke softly about an upcoming NASCAR race while a doctor made notes in a chart.

From behind a curtain came a long, desperate moan that focused Kate's jumbled impressions. Feeling weak at the knees, she took determined steps forward.

She found her father in the sixth cubicle on the right. Tears filled her eyes at the sight of her greatest hero and critic laid low. How could this elderly, ill man have created such havoc in her heart and life?

Jack Harmon lay still, withered and old against the sheets. He wore white bandages, dark bruises, and sensors taped to his chest and head. An IV line ran from his forearm to a bag on a pole.
Oh, Daddy.

"Kate?" A nurse approached. Her reserved, wary face looked familiar, but Kate couldn't place her right away. "You are Kate Harmon, right? I'm Sue Ayer. We went to school together."

"Oh. Yes, I remember. Hello... I..."

"I'm sorry, Kate." She sounded more judgmental than sorry. "You can't be in here now. We're strict about our ten-minutes-per-hour visitation rules. Tom was with your dad until just a few minutes ago."

"Okay." Sue avoided direct eye contact, and Kate felt her former classmate was counting the years since Kate's last trip home. Or else her own conscience was needling her. "I'll go... I just needed... how is he?"

"He's doing great," Sue assured her, urging her away from her dad and back toward the ICU entrance with more determination than sympathy. "The surgery went well. Your brother spoke at length with Dr. Hardesty, so he'll be able to fill you in on the details. I can tell you, though, that Jack is a very lucky man. Not a single bone is broken. He'll be sore, and it might take a while, but barring unexpected complications, he should recover fully."

They'd reached the ICU door. Sue pushed it open and offered Kate a smile. "Your sister is upstairs. I visited with her during my break, and I'm sure she needs to see you, too. When your father wakes up, I'll tell him you were here."